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Bloody Skies: A 15th AAF B-17 Combat Crew: How They Lived and Died
Laugh and cry with McGuire and his crew mates. 'Lady Luck' was the llth member of this crew until the day she deserted them. Bloody Skies captures the humor, tragedy, and ordinariness of life on a B-17 combat air crew flying out of Italy in the latter days of World War II.
- GenresWorld War IIHistory
424 pages, Hardcover
First published October 1, 1993
21 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
May 4, 2009
McGuire had always wanted to be a pilot. Because he didn't qualify, he was assigned to be the waist gunner of a B-17. He was sent to Amendola in 1944 to become part of the 2nd Bomber Group. The casualty rate among aircrews was exceedingly high. The day his replacement aircraft arrived the crew's first duty was to clean out and inventory the possessions of those who had not returned from the previous raid. An entire squadron had been wiped out.
The book is filled with pictures and copies of actual battle reports and eyewitness accounts of events, all of which contribute to extraordinary verisimilitude. For example, McGuire obtained some rare pictures taken by a fourteen-year-old Czechoslovakian who witnessed the carnage in the sky during one raid over Yugoslavia. He took pictures of the German troops examining the wreckage of numerous airplanes on the ground. He later became a historian and donated the photographs to the museum of the 2nd Bomber Group. The Czechs were anti-Nazi for the most part and went out of their way to collect and decently bury dead American flyers. The author discovered a placard still standing in 1983 that commemorated the sport where one B-17 crashed. It had inscribed the names of the crew ta ken from their dog tags.
Take-off could be as scary as the bomb runs themselves; The bombers were lined up literally nose to tail with only a few inches between them. Just one mistake or a broken hydraulic line and an enormous pileup might result. The planes were always grossly overloaded and it seemed to McGuire they would never get off the ground. Sometimes they didn't.
After several missions, some harrowing, some just milk runs, the crew became confident in its ability to function well together and not to question their ultimate survival. The raid on Debreczen challenged that assumption. For many of the crew, the night before the raid was to be the last nightmare-free sleep they were to have. The weather was appalling that day. They took off virtually blind and, unbeknownst to them, the raid was called off. All the groups except theirs heard the recall. Instead of a sky filled with bombers in a defensive formation, there were only 26 planes. Flak over the target was extremely accurate and intense. They were soon flying through the debris shot off of airplanes preceding them in formation.
Every plane was hit repeatedly. Many had engines damaged. One plane that miraculously made it back suffered a direct hit in the waist and the tail remained connected to the rest of the plane virtually only by the cables and lines running through the fuselage. It was following this raid that the author realized how vulnerable they were and the "dread" set in.
Dread was a realistic assessment. The Eighth Air Force, headquartered in Britain, had set a limit of twenty-five missions for its pilots. It had been the practice to fly them until they were shot down or killed and men had become so exhausted they were simply refusing to fly any more. Hence the American recommendation to set a limit on the number of missions before being rotated home. The Fifteenth Air Force, headquartered in Italy, that McGuire flew for set a limit of fifty missions. Four to six percent losses per mission were considered acceptable, but they discovered out of channels that in July of 1944 the Fifteenth had lost 318 bombers out of a total of 1,900. Twenty-five missions times four percent did not make the odds look good. Fifty missions made the odds look really bad. By the seventeenth mission, no one figured on making it home. They all developed twitches and body tics (McGuire still suffers from occasional twitching). Others developed bizarre behavior and almost all of them began "pulling missions," i.e., reliving missions during nightmares.
McGuire's description of the reunion with the surviving crewmen in 1992 is very touching. Indeed, this is one of the best military memoirs I had read. It's honest, descriptive, vividly written and loaded with detail and anecdotes not found in the traditional military histories.
A review of casualties in B-17's staggers the mind. The 8th Air Force flying out of Britain lost 4,754 B-17's and 2,112 B-24's and 44,472 aircrew. British losses were even greater. They lost 4,724 B-17's and 55, 573 aircrew.
According to a history of Boeing aircraft, during the peak of its production, the company was turning out 364 bombers per month.
See A Real Good War for a fictional account.
The book is filled with pictures and copies of actual battle reports and eyewitness accounts of events, all of which contribute to extraordinary verisimilitude. For example, McGuire obtained some rare pictures taken by a fourteen-year-old Czechoslovakian who witnessed the carnage in the sky during one raid over Yugoslavia. He took pictures of the German troops examining the wreckage of numerous airplanes on the ground. He later became a historian and donated the photographs to the museum of the 2nd Bomber Group. The Czechs were anti-Nazi for the most part and went out of their way to collect and decently bury dead American flyers. The author discovered a placard still standing in 1983 that commemorated the sport where one B-17 crashed. It had inscribed the names of the crew ta ken from their dog tags.
Take-off could be as scary as the bomb runs themselves; The bombers were lined up literally nose to tail with only a few inches between them. Just one mistake or a broken hydraulic line and an enormous pileup might result. The planes were always grossly overloaded and it seemed to McGuire they would never get off the ground. Sometimes they didn't.
After several missions, some harrowing, some just milk runs, the crew became confident in its ability to function well together and not to question their ultimate survival. The raid on Debreczen challenged that assumption. For many of the crew, the night before the raid was to be the last nightmare-free sleep they were to have. The weather was appalling that day. They took off virtually blind and, unbeknownst to them, the raid was called off. All the groups except theirs heard the recall. Instead of a sky filled with bombers in a defensive formation, there were only 26 planes. Flak over the target was extremely accurate and intense. They were soon flying through the debris shot off of airplanes preceding them in formation.
Every plane was hit repeatedly. Many had engines damaged. One plane that miraculously made it back suffered a direct hit in the waist and the tail remained connected to the rest of the plane virtually only by the cables and lines running through the fuselage. It was following this raid that the author realized how vulnerable they were and the "dread" set in.
Dread was a realistic assessment. The Eighth Air Force, headquartered in Britain, had set a limit of twenty-five missions for its pilots. It had been the practice to fly them until they were shot down or killed and men had become so exhausted they were simply refusing to fly any more. Hence the American recommendation to set a limit on the number of missions before being rotated home. The Fifteenth Air Force, headquartered in Italy, that McGuire flew for set a limit of fifty missions. Four to six percent losses per mission were considered acceptable, but they discovered out of channels that in July of 1944 the Fifteenth had lost 318 bombers out of a total of 1,900. Twenty-five missions times four percent did not make the odds look good. Fifty missions made the odds look really bad. By the seventeenth mission, no one figured on making it home. They all developed twitches and body tics (McGuire still suffers from occasional twitching). Others developed bizarre behavior and almost all of them began "pulling missions," i.e., reliving missions during nightmares.
McGuire's description of the reunion with the surviving crewmen in 1992 is very touching. Indeed, this is one of the best military memoirs I had read. It's honest, descriptive, vividly written and loaded with detail and anecdotes not found in the traditional military histories.
A review of casualties in B-17's staggers the mind. The 8th Air Force flying out of Britain lost 4,754 B-17's and 2,112 B-24's and 44,472 aircrew. British losses were even greater. They lost 4,724 B-17's and 55, 573 aircrew.
According to a history of Boeing aircraft, during the peak of its production, the company was turning out 364 bombers per month.
See A Real Good War for a fictional account.
February 5, 2021
One of the best autobiographies of a WWII airmen I've read. Mr. McQuire was the waist gunner on a B-17 flying out of Italy. So many good historical tidbits are included in this recounting of his time in the War. Written in an engaging, page-turning style, this book is a must-read for anyone interested in the air war during WWII on the Italian front.
November 20, 2013
This book has special meaning to me as my Father William J. Hughes served in the 15th AAF B-17 20th Squadron, 2nd Bombardment Group, 5th Wing, Amendola Air Base, Foggia, Italy with Melvin McGuire. The book covers the period of time that my father was in combat and there is one mission when McGuire and my father are on the same plane.
McGuire gives a personal account of his training and missions. I learned how a B-17 operated while on a mission. The B-17s climbed slowly compared to what we experience on Jet Airlines. They spend hours climbing to altitude and spent most of the mission breathing bottle oxygen.
McGuire arrived on the base on the day that the 20th lost every plane on a mission to bomb an Oil Refinery on Czechoslovakia. My father arrived later that same week. This event sets the undertone for the whole book that they didn’t expect to survive. My father confirmed with me that he had no expectation of surviving the war, but he and his comrades firmly believed that their sacrifice was worth the goal of defeating the Nazis. McGuire devotes a chapter explaining how all the planes were lost on mission 263.
In Chapter 27, McGuire described a mission he flew with my Father on Christmas Day, 1944. McQuire had been assigned to fly with my Father’s regular crew to fill in as the Bombardier. McGuire only needed two or three more missions before his tour was done and you can taste the beginning of the realization that he might be one of the few that makes it home. It was mission to Bomb an oil refinery in Brux, Czechoslovakia. McGuire gives you an idea of what it was like to anticipate the started of the flak and then to be bounced around the sky by the turbulence caused by the flak. On that mission McGuire saw the plane he normally flew with be hit. The plane was able to make back to Italy and fortunately, the pilot wounds were not fatal.
There is so much in this book to give you a picture of what these men went through. The contribution of the Tuskegee Airmen is also included. My Dad always told us that the Tuskegee Airmen are the reason he survived the war and McGuire’s account backs this up.
I highly recommend this book to understand the personal experience of B-17 crews in WWII.
McGuire gives a personal account of his training and missions. I learned how a B-17 operated while on a mission. The B-17s climbed slowly compared to what we experience on Jet Airlines. They spend hours climbing to altitude and spent most of the mission breathing bottle oxygen.
McGuire arrived on the base on the day that the 20th lost every plane on a mission to bomb an Oil Refinery on Czechoslovakia. My father arrived later that same week. This event sets the undertone for the whole book that they didn’t expect to survive. My father confirmed with me that he had no expectation of surviving the war, but he and his comrades firmly believed that their sacrifice was worth the goal of defeating the Nazis. McGuire devotes a chapter explaining how all the planes were lost on mission 263.
In Chapter 27, McGuire described a mission he flew with my Father on Christmas Day, 1944. McQuire had been assigned to fly with my Father’s regular crew to fill in as the Bombardier. McGuire only needed two or three more missions before his tour was done and you can taste the beginning of the realization that he might be one of the few that makes it home. It was mission to Bomb an oil refinery in Brux, Czechoslovakia. McGuire gives you an idea of what it was like to anticipate the started of the flak and then to be bounced around the sky by the turbulence caused by the flak. On that mission McGuire saw the plane he normally flew with be hit. The plane was able to make back to Italy and fortunately, the pilot wounds were not fatal.
There is so much in this book to give you a picture of what these men went through. The contribution of the Tuskegee Airmen is also included. My Dad always told us that the Tuskegee Airmen are the reason he survived the war and McGuire’s account backs this up.
I highly recommend this book to understand the personal experience of B-17 crews in WWII.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews